fice. I scarcely knew from his mode of pronunciation that he meant the Beauchamp chapel, the most stately and costly one in the kingdom, with the exception of that of Henry the Seventh, in Westminster Abbey. Its entrance is through an ornamented vestibule, the richness of its painted glass is striking, and many of its monuments elaborate. Near the northern wall is the tomb of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, the favorite of Queen Elizabeth, and her host during the princely festivities of Kenilworth, when for seventeen days the hand of the great clock at the castle was ever pointing to the hour of banquet. There also slumber the remains of his countess, under the same gorgeous canopy with himself, supported by Corin- thian columns. Poor Amy Robsart! how instinctively turns the heart to thee, and to the fearful secrets of Cumnor Hall. Near the southern wall of the chapel are entombed the remains of his infant son, "the noble Impe, Robert of Dudley, Baron of Denbigh," and heir presumptive to the earldom of Warwick. In the centre is the monument of its founder, Richard Beauchamp, the great Earl of Warwick, who held offices of the highest trust and power under Henry the Fourth and Fifth, and conducted the education of Henry the Sixth. During the exercise of his office, as Regent of France, he died at Rouen, in 1439, and his body was brought over in a stone coffin for interment here. His monument displays his recumbent statue in fine brass, clad in a full suit of plate armor. In a curious
